


Here Ghost Nothing

by Fuzzmint



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (TV 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Death, Drugs, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gore, Major Character Injury, Self-Sacrifice, Slow Burn, Smut, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-09-30 10:58:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzzmint/pseuds/Fuzzmint
Summary: Lydia Deetz, nearing the age of a generous twenty years, still has yet to find happiness when her life lacks the company of a certain wise-cracking poltergeist. She has yet to realize just how far she'll go to see him again - And yet to realize the mistake she's bound to make if nothing changes.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the title.
> 
> I guarantee that the chapters will be longer than this - this is just a prologue, after all. Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated, as always - I always take critisism to better my work. Thank you so so so much for reading the beginning to this particular fic, which I intend to update ~7-8 days, maybe longer depending on my situation. Again, thank you all so very much <3  
If you'd like to contact me outside of ao3, feel free to message me on instagram @fuzzmint (art account) or @professionalmoronn (personal account, which I likely will not accept follow requests on.)

* * *

She shouldn't have been so obsessed with him as she was - After all, he'd nearly killed her and the entirety of her family, not including the Maitlands (who were already dead). 

And yet, somehow, her traitorous mind always found a way to stray back to him. It was always him - Every subject or action she took was haunted by the presence of him in her mind. It was toxic, and she felt sickened by it. There had to have been something wrong with her, to be so completely invested in the ghoul that neither wanted nor needed anything more to do with her after their marriage of inconvenience. 

The poltergeist in question, of course, was the notorious Betelgeuse. Known throughout the land of the dead - and now the living as well, due to Delia's inability to keep her mouth shut about it, despite the Maitland's warnings - for his cunning ways of getting mortals to leave their own homes as well as the troublesome crimes he'd committed, Betelgeuse deserved nothing short of exorcism. And still, despite the countless efforts of those thay could be considered authorities in the land of the dead, each time he was apprehended or summoned against his will, he narrowly slipped out of their grasp. The con artist was sly, and nothing short of a genius - Though he didn't let that on to Juno.

At least, that was what Lydia had heard. She hadn't been updated on the situation since she'd left the dreaded house that her family had decided to move into without even a hint of a warning - Lydia was, of course, unprepared for such a big event. So, to say the least, she was more than ready to finally leave for college the very second she turned eighteen.

She'd given no warning to her parents, the same treatment that they selfishly provided her. She'd been required to begrudgingly show them her letter of acceptance, but required no more of them after they filled out a few lines that dealt with the financial issues of the matter. Otherwise, she hadn't bothered to say so much as a goodbye before packing her things and headed off in the middle of the night. She'd left them a simple, passive-aggressive note that gave away her future location and nothing more.

As much as she was saddened to have to leave the Maitlands without a goodbye, she didn't dare risk waking her parents while talking to them, nor did she want a lecture about how she should forgive and forget and say goodbye anyways. Besides, she was bound to visit one day or another - She just hoped that Barbara and Adam could survive her insufferable family that long. 

Now, sitting and recounting the events in her dreary little dormitory, she sighed and placed her notebook in her lap, tapping the cardboard backing of it with a fingernail. She frowned, biting the inside of her cheek.

Maybe Beetlejuice was still... Around? She hoped desperately that he hadn't been exorcised, as much as she should have wished for it. His banishment should have been considered a blessing - But now, it was Lydias worst fear - and she hated that about herself. She should have hated _him_. But she just couldn't find it in herself to despise him as much as the Maitlands and the entirety of the undead did - Not to mention her own family. 

And because of that, there he was, lurking always in the deepest corners of her mind. It was despicable, and yet another reason that she was disgusted with herself. Through this disgust, she longed to see him. He created excitement within her boring life, gave her a reason that she stood out among other normal people. She never considered herself normal - Not amongst her peers, anyways. But this - _he_ \- brought a whole new meaning to the word itself. And she lived for it. She adored it, and she adored him.

Though she wasn't entirely sure the word love best suited her situation, in a way, she did love him. Not in the romantic way that a wife loves her spouse, or the innocent way that a child loves their dog. She loved the very idea of him - the thought of being around him, the thought of him being brought back.

And yet, the rational fraction of her mind spoiled the adrenaline sparked by that idea by reminding her that she could never - _would never_ summon him back into the overworld. It simply wasn't going to happen, as much as she wanted it to. She needed to organize civilization's safety as the first priority - over her own want.

Though she seemed to be underestimating just how much control her want held over her. How much control _he_ had over her. 

He both fascinated and terrified her. But oh, how she wanted him back more than ever.

And how he wanted to come back more than ever, now that he sensed the opportunity arise.

And one way or another, he always - _**always**_ \- got what he wanted...

* * *


	2. Getting into the Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New character introductions and problems arising from her obsession with Beetlejuice, which she adamantly denies is present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much just a filler chapter for development as well as the introduction to the main plot of the story. I'm surprised I was able to upload it this soon, honestly, but enjoy nonetheless. Thank you for staying with the series and bearing with my amateurish writer skills <3

"_We loved with a love that was more than love._"  
-_**Edgar Allan Poe**_

* * *

It was a drab, lifeless day, and the clouds were thick and dark, forewarning of a storm - Just how Lydia liked it. 

She enjoyed listening to the thunder purr and rumble outside her window, as well as the bright flashes of lightning that were sure to follow and briefly illuminate her dorm. Now was no different, as she laid less than comfortably on her stiff mattress, going over the notes she'd taken from her biology class, which she'd attended prior to the oncoming storm.

As if on cue, lightning crackled outside her window following the deep roar of the distant thunder. The storm itself wasn't far off - Though not directly overhead, it was close enough that Lydia could easily look out her small window to estimate where or what the lightning had struck. 

The window pane fogged up almost instantly when the raindrops began to pound against the glass, and she reached over to draw a small smiley face in the steam that misted over the smooth surface of the glass. 

She stared at it for a moment, almost as if entranced. Unblinking, the face stared back at her inanimately, fading away gradually with the fog that hazed over the window. 

Her phone, which buzzed angrily on her desk, made her jump and stagger away from the window with shock. She fumbled it in a burlesque display, nearly dropping it more than once before it finally sat firm in her grip, still vibrating ceaselessly. She frowned at it, her eyebrows knitting together in both confusion and agitation before she answered it with a sigh, heedless of how the less-than-exuberant greeting was taken by whoever decided to interrupt her thoughts, or lack thereof, with a call.

"Hello?" She said, her own voice echoing into her ear from the opposite line. 

"Lydia? Lydia, darling, is that you?" A particularly annoying voice came shrieking out of the phone. She had to hold it away from her as she flinched to avoid rupturing an eardrum.

"Speaking," was all she said in return. She didn't have to ask who the voice belonged to - she recognized the high pitched squealing that belonged to none other than Delia Deetz. "What do you want, Delia?"

"Is it such a crime to want to contact my daughter after she left us without so much as a hug goodbye?" She sounded offended, and Lydia could almost see the aghast expression she was pulling. It made her have to cover up a snort of amusement with a small cough. "Besides, I told you to call me mom - I would think it would be easier to forget Emily that way..." 

Lydia paused, shocked at the unfriendly reminder of her mothers passing. Feeling her blood boil with a sudden, yet intense, rush of rage.

"Yeah, well, you _aren't_ my mom. You were never even a good _step_mom!" Lydia practically shouted, and grew even angrier for allowing Delia to make her so emotional. "Do you even know how bad it is that I was practically raised by the Maitlands, who, mind you, are _dead?_"

Delia was silent for a moment on the opposite line, the crackling of static the only ambient sound she could hear. She found it more pleasant than listening to her voice drone on about everything she was doing wrong. 

"Well, your father seems to disagree-"

"Goodbye, Delia." Lydia said, her finger hovering over the button to end the call on the small flip phone. 

"Wait! Stop that, Lydia, I had a reason to call you!" Delia almost shrieked, and lowered her voice the second she caught Lydias attention. "I wouldn't call my ungrateful stepdaughter to get ranted at just because I feel like it." She huffed, and Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Because you gave me _so much_ to be grateful for, right?" She snapped sarcastically, but pinched the bridge of her nose and put up with it for a minute longer to see what exactly she needed. "Anyways, what could you possibly want with me, other than to annoy me to death?" 

With her words, she shuddered, feeling as if death would be a rather sweet release from the bitterness that was her stepmother. But she couldn't think like that - not after being hospitalized after such thoughts. 

On the other hand... It would give her the chance to get closer to the Maitlands without having to deal with the morons that were her family.

It would also get her closer to... Him.

She shook the thought, realizing she hadn't heard a word Delia had said, and interrupted her mid-speech.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? You're breaking up on your line." Lydia fibbed, finding it disturbingly easy to lie to Delia. She wasn't surprised - growing up in such a place had given her plenty of practice in sneaking out and bluffing to enjoy things other than her parents' boring hobbies.

"I said, Lydia, that the Maitlands that you're so very fond of-" she cut herself off, and Lydia could hear faint shouting in the background. She bit the corner of her lower lip to avoid letting out a small giggle when Delia returned to the phone, sounding irritated. 

"You were saying?" Lydia said bluntly, almost emotionless. 

"Yes, the Maitlands. They're being rather childish over here, as they have been since you've left, and it's driving your father and I mad!" Delia ranted, her voice sharp and accusatory.

"So, what's new?" Lydia scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Have you tried being a more... I don't know... Decent person, or is that too much to ask?"

"Don't you be smart with me right now, Lydia, because I will not be having it!" Delia shouted. "The Maitlands are being simply intolerable, and there's nothing we can do about it without calling Beetle-"

"Don't say it!" Lydia said, cutting her off quickly. Her heart was racing, and she gripped the phone tightly in her fist. She sighed as Delia took the hint and seemed to shut up - for the moment, anyways. Lydia relished in the peaceful silence that ensued when Delia was quiet, before she let out a heavy sigh. 

"Right. Anyways, the Maitlands-" 

"I understand that, Delia, you've repeated yourself enough already. What do you want _me_ to do about it?" Lydia asked, growing more frustrated. 

"They like you, Lydia, they listen to you! I have no idea why, seeing as you're one of the most selfish children I've ever seen, but they do." She said, and Lydia could almost see her. She imagined her so vividly it was like she was there - Red faced to match the thick mop of graying scarlet hair that stuck out at every angle, jowls trembling each time she opened her mouth. Lydia had to suppress a laugh.

"Why should I help you? Even on the phone you've done nothing but insult me already. Why should it be any better in person?" Lydia questioned, holding the phone up to her ear by pressing it between her cheek and shoulder, examining her nails.

"Listen, Lydia; Don't you want a chance to see the Maitlands again, anyways?" Delia pleaded, and strikingly it was almost convincing. Lydia _did_ want the opportunity to catch up with Barbara and Adam again. It almost made her want to go back, but the desperate catch in Delia's voice made her rethink that.

"Haven't you tried contacting them yourself? Maybe see why they don't like you?" Lydia suggested, though the reason that the Maitlands didn't like her family was almost painfully obvious. 

"You know we can't contact them, Lydia, not like you - We can't even see them!" She cried, and Lydia had to hold the phone away from her ear.

"Delia, calm down. You're lucky I'm not completely irrational. Listen, college isn't just something I can skip, so I'm gonna have to come over on a day I don't have any classes." Lydia reasoned with her, as much as she thought it impossible to get through to that woman. "I'll be over this Saturday. Okay?" 

"You couldn't come soon enough, Lydia." Delia sighed, almost relieved. "See you then. Goodbye." 

With that, the dial tone rang in Lydia's ear as Delia hung up. She bitterly snapped the phone shut and set it down, rethinking the conversation and realizing that Delia hadn't apologized once, nor had she said 'please' or 'thank you' when asking for her help. Lydia simply shook her head, unfazed. 

She picked her notebook back up and sat on her bed, flipping through it until she reached her desired page. 

There was a boom of thunder, loud enough that it could be presumed that the storm was directly overhead, that made Lydia jump. She had totally forgotten about it, despite the rain that still battered her window - Delia's screeching must have blocked out the natural sound.

Sighing, Lydia rubbed her eyes and swept her hair over her shoulder where it wouldn't get in her face, and began to study from her textbook. 

_Just as the human eye can only see light at a range of frequencies, the human ear can only hear sounds in a range of frequencies in various hertz, around 20,000 being the limit..._

She felt her eyelids grow heavier as she looked over her notes, which were more than lacking of anything to pique her interest. The rain pattered heavily against her window, and she tried her best to stay focused. In spite of having nobody she particularly wanted to make proud other than herself, she was determined to do well in college. What a waste of a _perfectly good_ rainy afternoon.

_Human ears also have trouble hearing low-frequency sounds - infrasounds - below 20 hertz. Though such sounds do not go totally unnoticed, as proven in a study done in 2003 that exposed a group to sounds at 17 hertz. The group desceibed feeling uneasy, or even fearful, when exposed to such sound..._

Though she gave her best effort to stay awake and study, Lydia Deetz gave way to the simple needs of her body, which were lulled by the rhythmic sound of the rain on the glass as well as the deep rumbling thunder. Her eyelids drooped, and although she fought to keep them open, it was already a losing battle. Ten minutes later, she was fast asleep, her textbook sitting open on her chest as it rose and fell with her breath. The lightning that continued to flash outside didn't disturb her, though her dreams certainly would - As always.

What was new?

* * *

Three consecutive knocks on her thin door woke her from her long nap, which could be accurately compared to a coma from the way she'd barely moved, let alone woken up.

Blinking, her bleary vision made it difficult for her to find her way to the door. Groping for the doorknob, she rubbed her eyes while it swung open at her gentle pull, emitting a low creak. 

She eyed her visitor with both irritation as well as confusion, not entirely recognizing him until the gears in her brain clunked together and she was able to piece together a name.

"Vince? What are you... Doing here?" She asked, interrupting herself midsentence with a large yawn. She arched her back, raising her arms above her head in a much needed stretch.

It was worth noting that he was (poorly) hiding something behind his back, which threw Lydia off a bit. What on Earth could he possibly want this time?

"Uh, hi Lydia! I, uhm, I apologize for um, for waking you. I - I think." He stammered, and Lydia arched a brow. He'd certainly made progress with getting rid of that little stutter he'd had since Junior high, though it was obviously still present.

"Apology accepted. But that doesn't quite answer my question." She mused, rubbing her eyes and blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

"Yes, well, I brought you, um, I brought you some... Some, um, flowers. I was hoping that y - you might be free this weekend, and I, um, bought them to make the, uh, make the proposition that-"

"Oh no, Vince, I'm very sorry but I have... Family issues this weekend. My stepmom needs my help with something." Lydia said bluntly, cutting him off to save him the embarrassment and time. 

He fixed her with a look that reminded her of a forlorn puppy and smoothed his slick black hair back before he rubbed his shoulder anxiously.

"Oh, uh, that's fine. Maybe, um, maybe next w - week?" He offered, adamant on getting her to agree to a date. It made her pity him, really.

"Maybe, Vince, I'll have to check my schedule." Lydia sighed, looking rather unfocused. He caught her bored expression and frowned a bit, rocking on his heels and growing ever more nervous.

"W-well okay, just let me know and, um, and I'll be awaiting your, uh, call." He reassured with a goofy looking smile, which Lydia forced herself to return.

"Okay, goodbye now, Vince." 

"Oh, y - you forgot your -"

With that, the door was closed, and Lydia leaned with her back pressed against it, chewing her lower lip as her eyes fluttered shut. She sank down to the floor, trying to remember just what she'd dreamed about, if anything at all. Vince's little visit had likely made her easily distracted mind allow the memory to slip away into wherever it was that forgotten or lost dreams went. She presumed it was about Beetlejuice - but that was to be expected.

Then there was the issue that was Vince.

He'd been a long time friend of hers, one of the only ones that matched her strange personality and interests. He was alike to her in the way that he dressed and acted, and didn't intend to follow the typical standards of what made a person normal.

But he was a friend, and as much as he wished it to change, it was going to stay that way.

She longed to tell him the truth; But what would he think of her after finding out she was completely head over heels for a someone - a ghost, no less - who paid her no mind, giving her only the second thought when he needed her to free him. Though Vince was nothing more than a friend to her, he was a very good one, and she didn't want to risk losing that with him by admitting just who she'd fallen in love with.

There - she'd said it, even in her own mind. She was in love, in every sense of the word. She hated to admit it - but there was certainly no denying it. 

There was something about him that just drew her to him like a moth to a flame. And by God, she was bound to get burned the moment she acted on it. And yet it still stung to live without him in her life. How selfish was she, to be able to freely communicate with the afterlife - whoever and wherever she wanted - and still only want one single person - if he could even be referred to as a person.

She wished she could claim that he held power over her, possessed her, took control over her in order to free himself - but she knew deep down that it wasn't so. Her mind was completely and utterly fucked up, for lack of a better word.

But, for now at least, she was going to have to live without him in her pathetic life, for the sake of everyone around her. It was simple - He couldn't be trusted. As much as she wanted to, she knew that she would never - _could_ never - summon him again.

Still, the back of her mind nagged her to at least try. What if he'd changed? What jf you're too late and he's already been exorcised? What if he doesn't come at all, Lydia?

Thoughts like this nearly made her give up everything she'd been so determined to keep safe and just _try._ But, supposedly her willpower was too strong to be swayed. Though she admired him, he both terrified and intrigued her, and wasn't to be trusted. Not under any circumstances. Not for anything. He was the villain in her sad little story, and in the end, the bad guy never wins. No matter how close they come, they never get to take over the world, or defeat the hero, or in this case, gain their freedom.

"I'm sorry, Beej..." She found herself whispering aloud, and buried her face in her hands, crushed. 

Trying to snap herself out of the trance she'd allowed herself to slip into, she sighed and looked up at the clock. Thirty minutes - she'd been sitting in silent contemplation for thirty minutes. It disgusted her.

Sighing, she managed to somehow pull herself together and stand up, shaking the thought. Surely she didn't mean that - it must have been an intrusive thought, resulting from her lack of proper sleep and Vince's sudden and uninvited visit. Whatever she felt for him - whatever love she recognized - was merely platonic, and nothing more. If even that - she should have hated him. Having platonic feelings for him was generous.

With that, she sighed quietly before going back to sleep to continue her interrupted dreams. She wasn't sure how long she had until her alarm rang for her next class, but she was going to get some rest regardless of how much it was. 

But a certain poltergeist would make sure soon enough that he didn't go unnoticed, and that her plan to sleep wouldn't be completely fulfilled either.


	3. A Grave Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting into the plot, Beetlejuice manages to contact Lydia through the water of a stream and convinces her to free him, at a cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The perspective changes from Beetlejuice to Lydia in the beginning of this chapter, so I apologize if that's confusing! Also, I spell his name as both Beetlejuice and Betelgeuse; Beetlejuice when Lydia or any other character says it, and Betelgeuse any other time. I figured I should clarify, since that might also be kinda confusing :') anyways, I hope you enjoy!!

"_Either get busy living or get busy dying._"  
-_**Stephen King**_

* * *

Lydia Deetz. The name rolled off the tongue and sent a shudder down his spine, making him quiver with an emotion he couldn't quite name.

Lydia was a strange girl; Not that he was complaining by any means. Quite the opposite, actually. But there was one thing about her that really got on his nerves - the fact that he could no longer reach her.

He didn't know why, or how, but he could no longer converse with Lydia through dreams or even hallucinations. Each time he tried, he just ended up in his own grave - literally. When he tried to contact her, he would always disappear briefly, giving him that awful flutter of hope deep within his chest, then end up back in the confines of his burial site. 

The most annoying part was that he could _see_ her, he could watch her all he wanted to, enter her dreams as he pleased, but the moment he tried to interact with her, the familiar spark of electricity shocked him and in a flash, he was back to his 'home.' If one could call it that.

To make matters worse, there was another confusing addition to what he would call a problem - Lydia often dreamed of him. 

He'd expected her to, after everything he'd managed to put her through, and the damage he'd caused in the mere minutes he experienced freedom. But he wasn't involved in her _nightmares_; The dreams he was included in were peaceful, and radiated a sort of joy that almost saddened him. When she dreamed of him, they were never bad - She didn't think of him as just another ghost in the closet, or a monster under the bed. He wasn't terrifying, disgusting, or evil to her. He was just Betelgeuse - he was her friend.

There were other sorts of emotion lingering deep in those dreams - guilt and regret, mainly, which threw him for a loop. Why should she be guilty? For sending him back, possibly? He just couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand _her_.

But wasn't that one of the many things he admired about her? Her ability to surprise him under any circumstance, at any time, with just the right words or actions? His own inability to comprehend everything there was to know about her? 

All the more reason for him to try harder to contact her, he supposed. The longer he lay trapped here in the Neitherworld, the less time he had before eventually, some higher power found him and had him sent to be exorcised. He'd managed to evade any form of authority for now, but deep down he knew he couldn't do that forever. Eventually, they'd catch up to him.

Unless Lydia freed him.

If he could somehow manage to contact her, he was sure he could convince her to free him. But he didn't have much time, and he knew it. 

Lucky for him, it seemed as if she was already teetering on the edge of submission. And he was going to push her over the moment she let her guard down.

Though it shouldn't be misinterpreted that he didn't care for her - There was always that twinge of remorse when he went over his plan. This was the only person that had ever treated him as anything more than a burden, and he was going to betray her. And for what? His own freedom? 

It was worth it... Right? 

She considered him a friend. Hell, if he didn't know any better, he'd have said she even had a little thing for him. But he _did_ know better. No living being, let alone Lydia Joyce, could ever be anything more than a friend to him - and even that was rare. Could he really betray everything they'd built together?

Oh, little Lydia 'Joystick' Deetz. What had she gotten herself into?

* * *

Betelgeuse most certainly did not know any better, because Lydia most definitely did have a thing for him.

Romantic? Surely not. But how could it not be considered a "thing" when he was on her mind at every passing moment? When practically everything she, or anyone else for that matter, said or did reminded her of him? It was pathetic, really. If he really was watching her, she was sure she'd made a real fool of herself already.

But that was none of her concern now, as she stood in line at the large cafeteria to pay for her meal; It was nothing fancy, just a sub and a generous portion of fries, and she had the creeping feeling that it wasn't worth the twenty minute wait she had to endure just to buy it. 

Yet, she was already here, and there were only a few more students ahead of her, so she decided to tough it out, despite how utterly boring it was.

After she finally reached the register and pulled out the cash required to pay, she made a beeline for the heavy double doors that led outside. The grass was dewy, and the air was chill, and Lydia hiked up her skirt a bit to prevent it getting wet. Her shoes, on the other hand, were a lost cause. 

She found her seat on a short concrete wall surrounding the garden, setting her tray in her lap and admiring the bees that hummed lazily around each flower, maneuvering themselves with lax expertise that Lydia found interesting. 

Involuntarily she shivered, a shudder raking uncomfortably up her spine. She blinked, dropping her sandwich with the surprise that resulted from it. She looked around, feeling as if she were being watched, but seeing no culprit. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, scanning the area carefully for anybody she may have missed.

Finding nobody, she brushed it off as just her body's natural reaction to the cold temperature, and tried her best to ignore it. 

But she just couldn't shake the feeling that maybe something was here with her - some_one_ was here with her. She wouldn't have been surprised - though if the college really was inhabited by the undead, wouldn't she have been able to see them?

Unless it were... Him. And that wasn't entirely farfetched, either. She decided to try and get answers by calling out to him in a manner that wouldn't result in accidentally summoning him.

"Beej? Is that you?" She called, not necessarily shouting for fear of being heard by someone of the living realm, but her voice still resonating throughout the garden nonetheless. Swallowing hard, she set her tray aside and wandered into the garden, her gaze sweeping over every bare inch. 

"BJ?" She called again, hoping for more of a reaction this time. He'd always hated that specific nickname, so Lydia assumed if he were here that he'd protest immediately. He did not. 

Finally, she reached the miniature stream that ran through the garden underneath the rickety wooden bridge, and frowned a bit, feeling completely ridiculous. Of course he wasn't here - why would he just now decide to show up after all these years? 

She sighed, leaning over the railing of the bridge and gazing down at her reflection with a mild disappointment. Her heart was still racing with excitement at the possibility of seeing him again, but dropped quickly when she realized he wasn't here after all. 

She was almost too deep in thought to catch it, but as she looked down with a piercing sadness at her reflection, she swore she saw it wink at her. She gasped, stumbling backwards until her back hit the rail on the opposite side and she almost went tumbling over the side before she caught her balance.

Did that really just happen? Or was her childish imagination still playing games with her? 

She bit the corner of her lip, slowly stepping closer to the rail she'd been bent over just a moment ago, and dared to peek over the edge. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut at first until she developed the bravery to open them, sneaking a glance at her reflection only to see...

Nothing.

Of course. It was stupid to think otherwise. But before she could scold herself for acting so ridiculous, the water wavered and her reflection became distorted. She watched, both intrigued and frightened, and gripped the rail for support as the water stilled.

Her reflection remained the same - there was nothing to say about that. There was, however, something to say about the poltergeist that looked back at her through the water. In his reflection, he was sitting up beside her on top of the rail, looking just as smug as ever. Noting her horrified face, he winked at her before giving her a two-finger salute.

That did it, alright. She shrieked, tripping over her own feet as she tried to step away - maybe even _run_ away - and looked up at the bridge where his reflection revealed he would have been positioned. Her round eyes were wide with fear, and she clambered backwards towards the edge of the bridge.

Again, she was fooled. There wasn't a trace of him there - but this time, she _knew_ she wasn't just seeing or imagining things. He was really here.

Her pulse quickened, heart racing like a rabbit's while being pursued by a predator - she wasn't in a vastly different situation. However, rather than running away as the rabbit would, something pulled her closer. She yearned to get closer and investigate, but something prevented her from it. Perhaps her promise to the Maitlands and to her family - perhaps her own intention to preserve her dignity. 

That didn't matter, though. The urge to get closer overpowered both of these obstacles, and in the span of a few seconds she was on her feet, trembling as she slowly made her was towards the narrow stream of water.

When she found she was a good distance away, she bent down, sitting with her knees bent in a fashion that resulted in her legs awkwardly positioned underneath her. 

"Beej? Can you... Uh... Can you..." She coughed, feeling a bit stupid. "Show... Yourself?" She said, more of a question than it should have been.

Suddenly, the water rippled violently and the famous Ghost With the Most was visible to her within the water. She gasped, her heart skipping a beat for about the fifth time that day; At this rate, she'd have a stroke and wouldn't _have_ to worry about summoning him.

"Woah! Heya, babes, this isn't some kinda ghost hunter type o' shit, is it? Cause that's all bullshit, guaranteed." Betelgeuse said, his voice watery due to his current position. Bubbles rose to the surface of the water when he spoke, and Lydia had to hold bavk a snicker.

"N-no! Beej, you're really... Oh my God." Lydia stammered, unable to form a comprehendable sentence.

"Not quite, but you've got the spirit, sure." He responded, his tone laced with the sarcasm he was famous for.

She wasn't sure how to feel. Angry? Delightened? Scared? Most of all, she felt confused. She swept her hair away from her face, her deep brown eyes flickering with a combination of her emotions.

"Why didn't you come to see me any sooner?" Lydia asked, letting the question slip from her tongue before she snapped her mouth shut, not wanting to give away the fact that she'd been missing him. She should have hated him - She clearly wasn't doing a fantastic job at portraying _that_, though.

"What, didja miss me, Joystick? I'm flattered, really." He said, leaning forward with his chin rested on his palm, cracking a cheeky grin. 

Joystick - the nickname made her heart flutter again. She hadn't heard that name since she was 16 - the last time she'd seen Betelgeuse. She secretly enjoyed it, though right now wasn't the time to say so.

"Don't call me that, Beetle- um. Beej." She said, catching herself before she accidentally said his name for the first of three times. He frowned, looking more than disappointed; Not just with the fact that she wasn't fond of the name he'd given here, but more that she was refusing to say his name. 

"Oh, c'mon. If you get to call me fuckin' Blowjob, then I get to call you Joystick." He scoffed, sticking out his tongue childishly. "Trust me, I could thing of a helluva lot worse than Joystick, Joystick." He grinned, raising a brow as if he were challenging her.

"I don't call you Blowjob!" She shouted, then realized how insane she'd look if anyone were to hear or see her right now. She lowered her voice, face red with embarrassment and frustration. "It's your initials."

"Well, I don't appreciate sharing initials with a type of foreplay. I mean c'mon, what kinda mom names their beautiful bouncy baby boy after a _planet?_ Hell, not even a well known planet like Jupiter or Moon or some shit!" He ranted, talking with his hands waving frantically. 

Lydia snorted, hiding a tiny giggle. "Come on. I can't be seen talking to you like this. Can't you just, I dunno... Appear in my room or something?" She asked, then realized the offer would be taken in the wrong way in his raunchy mind. 

He wiggled his eyebrows, licking his teeth hungrily. "I'd be happy to take this to your room, baby, but yanno I can't do that until you wear out my name a little bit." He explained, and she squirmed with the awkwardness of the situation. Her cheeks flushed even more than they had been, and she scoffed with annoyance, waving her hand as if shooing him away.

"You're insufferable." She mumbled, looking at him through misted eyes. Why was she crying? Even she didn't know - he couldn't have broken her down so soon, especially considering she didn't _feel_ sad. "You can't just stay in the sink or something? I mean, you're in the water here. What if I filled the tub or something?"

"Seriously, babes? You're makin' this too complicated. All you gotta do is say my name, and I'll go wherever you want - bathtub included, if you'll join me." He sneered wickedly, wanting to make her as uncomfortable as he possibly could so he could revel in her reaction.

"Absolutely not. If you won't give a little effort just to stay in the water a while 'til we work something out, then surely your freedom can't be all that important to you." Lydia countered, eyeing him up and down, and was pleased to see him jump a bit, looking panicked.

"Hey, wait, no! That's not what I said, just..." He paused, turning around to clutch his face and let out a long, embitter sigh. "Fine. Fine. But don't expect me to be your fuckin' butler or something." He said accusingly, pointing a crooked finger at her. To her disgust, a large, fat roach crawled lazily out of his sleeve and made itself comfortable on the back of his hand. He plucked it up between his index finger and his thumb, making a show out of slowly pulling it to his lips to crunch it between his teeth. Lydia, despite seeing him do this before, was far from used to it again and had to wrinkle her nose with distaste.

"I'd think you'd be willing to go to any length for freedom, so I guess I could make you do whatever I want." Lydia teased, smirking at him. He looked bewildered, and scowled at her, but before he could respond she opened her mouth again and hushed him. "But, lucky for you, I don't have anything particularly evil in mind for you. Because despite what you might thing, Beej..." She said, pausing for a moment to sigh and look down at her lap.

Betelgeuse blinked at her, expecting her to finish her sentence, and made a point to check a watch he conjured up onto his wrist.

"...I've missed you." She finished after a moment, unable to look him in the eye. 

The poltergeist stayed silent for a moment, which was extremely out of character for him. He hadn't expected that - he'd expected her to get angry, or yell and nag him about how she was smart enough not to do anything of the sort now that she was grown. But he never would have guessed _this_. 

"I, uh... Missed you too, babes." He said at last, breaking the silence. "Come on, then. I'll meetcha there - I can't exactly, yanno, walk with ya." He grinned, and to her surprise he reached an arm out to the surface of the water. Where it should have appeared and broken the surface, there was nothing but thin air. 

"Oh... I see. Uh, in that case, just follow me. You can do that, right?" Lydia suggested, unsure exactly what he was and was not capable of.

"I can try, but yer not gonna see me, so don't take it too personal if you close the door on my head and I accidentally turn you into a rat." He exclaimed a little too casually, shrugging, before abruptly disappearing. 

She shivered again, the hairs on her neck rising. There was something so off-putting about knowing someone was with you, but not being able to see or hear them. She could, however, smell the faint scent of ash and cigar smoke - something she could use easily to identify him. She curled her lip, disgusted. So there was another lie - or, at least, something he'd given up on. 

She'd made him promise to give up smoking when she was 16, and he swore that he would. For a while, he did. Apparently in the 4 years it took to see him again, he restarted. 

She supposed she couldn't blame him. She was most of his motivation, after all. Encouraging him all the time, getting rid of anything that even resembled a cigarette, helping him resist the urge for a smoke, etcetera. It was a tedious task, but when he finally showed progress, it was worth it; She'd always despised the smell, revolted and sickened by the heavy smoke that would fill her nose and lungs. She wasn't too worried for him, considering he was already dead, but it was a habit she hated with all of her heart. 

She pushed the thought aside - it was a topic for later. For now, she had to choose her wording carefully, with precise planning and scripting. One slip up, and he'd manage to find a loophole and ultimately end up causing more trouble than Lydia had bargained for. It was like talking to a cliché genie. 

She went up the few flights of stairs it took to get to her dormitory and fumbled for her keys, jamming them in the lock and pushing her way inside. She was careful to wait a while before closing the door, recalling his words and realizing she didn't really want to be a rodent today. 

She went straight to the small bathroom in her dorm and ran the faucet in the bathtub, not really bothering to adjust the temperature. She sat on the lip of the tub as she waited, tapping her foot against the tiled floor impatiently.

After a while, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Beej? Come on, I've got it ready." She exclaimed to the empty bathroom, and almost immediately she saw the bathwater ripple and become distorted. It splashed violently, as if something were thrashing around in it, and she flinched away from the droplets that soared through the air. 

"_**SWEET FUCKING SATAN, LYDIA, IT'S FUCKING FREEZING!**_"

She looked up at the shocked and angry voice and gave a tiny, nervous laugh before she leaned over the tub to get a look at him.

"Sorry. The boiler here isn't exactly in perfect condition." She said, though in reality she just hadn't thought to make it warmer - she didn't think that he'd be able to feel the temperature, after all.

"Whatever, I don't care about all the itsy bitsy details, just _**hurry up!**_" Betelgeuse shouted, trembling viciously.

"Okay, okay! Jeez, Beej, relax. It's just a little chilly, that's all-" 

"_**COME ON, LYDS!**_" 

"Alright!" She yelped, jumping a bit as his voice grew louder. "You can't kill any living person, and you can't destroy any property. That means you can't use magic on anyone, either. You can't make anyone or any_thing_ kill anyone else, and you can't possess anyone." 

"But babes-"

"Those are my rules, and if you don't want to follow them then I guess you're just stuck in that cold water forever. Or in the Neitherworld, or your grave, whichever place you've been the last four years." She interrupted him, silencing him by holding up her index finger. "Do we have a deal?"

"Fine, alright, whatever, I won't do no harm!" Betelgeuse promised, suddenly adorned in a boy scout uniform and holding up his right hand. "Scout's honor!" 

Lydia smiled, her heartrate quickening. She took a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Beetlejuice..."

The light dimmed ever so slightly, and Betelgeuse leaned in closely, listening intently. If he had a pulse, it would be rapid. 

"Beetlejuice..." 

Lydia leaned over the tub, gripping the edge for support. She could have sworn that the porcelain cracked under her fingertips due to how hard she was holding onto it..

"Beetlejuice!"


	4. Getting Ghosted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catching up between the two after Lydia summons Betelgeuse, as well as some unanswered questions on how he got there in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am **so sorry** this took so long, I've been so busy these last few weeks and it's super hard to catch any free time whatsoever. Hopefully this will hold you off until the next chapter - whenever that'll be, heh.

_"Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly."_  
-_**Charles Addams**_

* * *

He wasn't sure how he was able to finally reach out to her. He wasn't sure why, of all the times he'd tried, he'd only been able to get to her from the cramped little area in a stream. Above all, he wasn't sure how he was able to convince her to release him - his only clue was the fact that she considered him a friend. 

Still, that didn't exactly clear up everything. Even if she _was_ his friend, he'd still properly fucked up his reputation with her when he nearly killed her family - or at the very least, seriously injured them. 

For a long time, he watched helplessly from the shadows, invisible to her and all other mortals, as she began to forget about him. Or so he assumed. After all, when four years passes and one goes to college, it seems likely that they'd begin to forget not-so-insignificant memories. 

But that wasn't the case; in fact, it was the total opposite. Lydia had been thinking about him constantly, almost 24/7. That was evident in the dreams she frequently had about him. 

So, the first thing he asked when he escaped was simple. Though it was a single word, it was complex in the questions behind it. The word combined every single thought that rushed through his mind in minutes and put it into something verbal, though no less confusing.

"_Why?_"

But she was clever. Too clever. She knew the questions behind the word; _"Why'd you do it, Lydia? Why'd you risk it all? Why'd you fuck it all up? Why **didn't** you think?"_

She didn't know. Betelguese could tell just by getting a good look at her face. Her slack jaw, wide, tired eyes and pale skin. It was almost laughable, how she looked at him. 

Then, however, she lept forward against him, throwing her thin arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace, partly as if ensuring he was truly there. Then, answering all of his questions, she uttered a tiny whisper that only he would be able to hear.

"_I don't want to be alone anymore._"

* * *

She didn't know exactly what her thoughts had been when she hugged him. When he asked her why she'd done it. When she pounced on him like a cat and hugged him like he would disappear in a minute if she didnt hold onto him. 

His breath - though Lydia was confused at the fact that he had any at all - was warm and moist on her cheek, his stubble gently scratching against her ivory skin. He seemed so close - so _very_ close - and yet, seemed so far away. Like the star he was named after, it was as if she could see him and percieve him as if he were directly in front of her, and yet when she reached out, she wouldn't be able to feel him on her fingertips. 

But here he was, in her arms again. Just as it should be - they fit together perfectly.

She wasn't sure if she was dreaming again or not. It wasn't exactly uncommon, her dreaming about him re-entering her life to add some color to the grays and blacks that she thrived in. 

"I can't, Beej. I... Couldn't. I couldn't do this by myself anymore." She continued, feeling his awkward hands look for proper positioning on her back to return the hug. "Do you know how hard it is, dealing with my pathetic excuse for a family? Dealing with whatever methods of torture this... This school can think of?" She vented to him, squeezing him a bit tighter, 

"Yeah, I know, dollface. Been there, done that." Betelgeuse chuckled quietly, eyes half lidded as he silently recalled the short time he'd spent around the intolerable Delia Deetz. 

"And now I have to go _back_ in a few days because the Maitlands are supposedly causing issues and I just don't know if I could..." She trailed off, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "...If I could do it alone."

Betelgeuse patted her on the back, laughing nervously and looking blankly at the wall behind Lydia. 

"I get that, Lyds. My college days may be over, but I'll be damned if they didn't scar me more than those stupid sandworms ever could." He snorted, rolling his eyes with a bitter scowl. 

Lydia, for the first time in what seemed like ages, let out a laugh. A _real, genuine_ laugh. Not one of mockery or disbelief, but because something struck her as funny.

"Beej, you _are_ damned." She giggled quietly, jabbing a thumb down towards the floor.

"Well, sure, but I meant, like, _more_ damned. Like, extra damned." He reiterated, flailing his hands in meaningless gestures as he spoke. 

"I'm glad you're back." Lydia said quietly, truly meaning it. As for now, she didn't regret summoning him in the slightest. She doubted that, if it continued like this and he kept his promise, that she ever would. 

"I'm glad I'm back too." Betelgeuse sighed heavily. "Oh boy, am I glad I'm back. Got myself a little legroom, yanno what I mean?" He sneered, and began to levitate off the ground, making a scene out of leaning backwards and resting his head on his palms as he crossed his arms behind his neck, fingers lacing with one another. 

"Well, you best behave, sir. Otherwise you'll go straight back, and that's a promise!" Lydia warned, trying to sound intimidating but ultimately failing. Betelguese spared her a second glance of pity, almost finding the attempt sad. 

"Oh puh-leeze. You know I would never, ever, _ever_ break a promise. Pinkie swear!" He cried, holding out a red tipped little finger as a small halo appeared over his head, flickering like it was running out of battery. Lydia raised an eyebrow, skeptical. 

Rather than defending his case, Betelgeuse just shrugged and with a simple flick, the halo was sent across the room, smacking into the wall opposite them. It flickered in protest a few times, then died, the dim glow that previously emitted from it replaced with a permanent darkness. 

"So, Lyds, wanna catch up a little? Cause.." He gestured to her, _all_ of her, and cracked a malicious grin. "You've, ah, grown." He finished, and wiggled his eyebrows with ill intent. 

Lydia, blinking as if she were completely oblivious to the perverse thoughts that Betelgeuse constantly spewed, shook her head with a meek smile.

"Well, I'm twenty now. I guess that counts for something, right?" She chuckled softly, tilting her head. "Of course I've grown. It's been four years, Beej." 

Betelgeuse, not to be ignored, shook his head and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Nah, nah. You've **grown**, babes." He said with a nod, before he held out his hands, palms facing her, and made a groping motion. 

Lydia, now finally understanding his meaning, stepped back as her eyes widened with both amusement and surprise.

"BJ! That's so..." She started, unable to think of a proper way to scold him. 

"Ah ah ah, let me stop you right there." He said, interrupting her and holding up a finger to silence her. "No more BJ. My name is much more dignified than fuckin' Blowjob." 

Lydia giggled, shaking her head. "I told you, it's your initials!" She protested, taking his finger in a closed fist and pushing his hand back to his side. 

"Well, as lucky as that may be, I'm not a fan of it. Think of something new, use that big college brain o' yours." He said, crossing his arms stubbornly. 

"No way, I'll just have to use it to get on your nerves every now and then." Lydia objected, sticking her tongue out and sitting on the foot of her bed. 

"Well, then I guess you're stuck with Joystick." Betelgeuse concluded smugly, grinning as if he'd won some kind of ongoing game. 

"Yuck. No way." Lydia said, grimacing. 

"Seriously? 'Joystick' is more disgusting to you than _Blowjob?_ Really?" Betelgeuse said through narrowed eyes, one eyebrow raised to complete the look of pure disbelief. 

"It isn't blowjob!" Lydia insisted, stamping a foot on the ground below her bed. "It's just your name! It stands for your name, dammit!" She sighed, rubbing her temples after the outburst. 

"Well, whatever. Every time I hear it, I think 'blowjob', so unless you're fixin' to set me up with a hot date, then I suggest you come up with somethin' else." The ghoul restated, floating over towards her before he fell down, gravity seeming to abruptly remember his presence, and landed flat on his back beside her on the bed. 

"Fine. But I'm keeping 'Beej'. I think it's cute." Lydia huffed, irritated, and laid back beside him on the bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. 

"Duh. Everything about me is cute. I mean, c'mon, I'm drop-dead fuckin' adorable." Betelgeuse replied casually, scratching his cheek. "Hey, toots, you gotta cafeteria 'round here? I'm starving." He continued before she could say anything against his prior statement.

Lydia scowled, rolling her eyes. 

"Do you even _need_ to eat? I mean... You're dead. It isn't exactly like you need the nutrients." She pointed out, poking him in his gut. 

He responded by letting out a gust of air, covering his stomach self-consciously. 

"Hey! I eat when I want to, thank you very much." He said, swatting her hand away from him. "Dontcha know it's rude to point out a fella's weight?" He scolded, wagging a finger at her with a light playfulness in his tone.

She smiled, shaking her head. "You aren't just any fella, Beej." She sighed, and poked him in his side again.

"Cut that _out!_ Jesus Christ, what're you tryin' to do, kill me twice? Extra kill me? Hate to tell ya, babes, but you don't have the nerve for that." He challenged, summoning a fat cigar and lighting it on a whim. He spun it between his pointer and middle finger before raising it to his lips, and Lydia quickly reached over to smack it away, alarm in her bright brown eyes.

He looked at her, then at his now-empty hand, then back at her, then the cycle continued. He frowned, the cigar rolling across the floor and trailing smoke. Lydia jumped up from her spot on the bed and crushed it with the ball of her foot, lightly burning herself in the process.

"Gonna explain yerself or are ya just gonna stand around and leave me clueless?" Betelgeuse wondered aloud, a bit annoyed at the reaction. It wasn't as if conjuring up the cigar took much effort, but the reaction was so... Unnecessary.

"You promised!" Lydia said, and was on him in an instant, grabbing his tie tightly in her clenched fist and tugging him forward. "You said you gave it up! You swore!" Lydia shouted, anger burning in her gaze as she glared him down, refusing to take her eyes off him. 

"Promised what? What in the fresh hell are you going on about?" The ghoul said, bewildered, and raised his hands as if he were surrendering. 

"You said you gave up smoking! You promised!" Lydia repeated herself, smacking him lightly on his upper arm as her blood boiled in rage.

Betelgeuse realized with a start just what she'd meant and his eyes went wide as he put two and two together. Oh. _Oh._

"Listen, Lyds, it's been four fuckin' years. I haven't been around anyone alive enough to care about it." He explained, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "If I woulda been around more, it never woulda happened again. Honest." 

"Bullshit." Lydia sighed, but his explanation made sense. He'd only quit because the habit bothered her - now that she hadn't been around for ages, he had no reason to continue trying to quit. It wasn't as if it harmed him, or risked damaging his lungs - he was dead already. 

"Nope, no bullshit. Just facts, babe." Betelgeuse swore, crossing his heart. 

"Well, sure. Fine, that's great and all, but now that you're back, you're gonna have to learn not to smoke again." Lydia sighed, releasing his tie after stroking the material with her thumb. "Think you can handle that?"

"Sure, duh. Obviously." Betelgeuse scoffed, as if this were barely even a challenge. "I'm the ghost with the most, dollface. 'Course I can relearn how to get out of a habit." 

"You seem awfully confident for someone that hasn't tried such a task for four years." Lydia said, her eyebrows knitting together in concern, though her light smile gave away just how angry she really was.

"That's because I am awfully confident, Lyds." The man acrost her assured her, before he tapped her nose with his pointer finger in a snide gesture of mockery. 

Then, before Lydia could say something in return or complain about his narcissism, there was a knock on her door. The two looked up from their current positions - Betelgeuse laying lax on the bed with Lydia standing sternly in front of him - to stare at the door with wide eyes.

Lydia, more panicked than Betelgeuse, jumped up and looked for a place for him to hide. Before she could say anything or give a feeble command, he waved a hand in front of her face, nodded, and abruptly turned into a small fly. 

Lydia watched, intrigued, before snapping out of her brief trance to answer the door. She knew exactly who it'd be, and knew that the certain someone would not be particularly pleased with her having another man in her dorm - alone. 

She waited another painfully long second before the door creaked open at her command, and she stood less-than-merrily in front of the notorious Vincent. 

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and tapping her foot against the hardwood floor impatiently.

"Vince, I told you already, I can't go. I have plans, and I'm very busy this whole week, so unfortunately I just don't have the time to-"

"A-actually that's not, um, what I'm here to, uh, here to talk to you about, L-Lydia." Vincent stammered, tripping over his own words as usual. He looked more confident than he usually would come off as, and Lydia wondered what the occasion could be. 

She raised her eyebrows, interested and confused, and awaited his tedious explanation. 

"I - I just wanted to, um, to return your... Your uh, your flowers." He said, lifting his chin as if to seem bold, but the constant stutter gave away whatever hint of self-assurance he presented. "They were, uh, very expensive and... And I would hate to, um, h-hate to see them go to waste. Instead of, you know, um, instead of going to a b-beautiful woman such as... Uh, such as yourself." He coughed awkwardly, adjusting the collar of his shirt and avoiding eye contact.

Lydia couldn't help but smile at the offer. It was almost adorably pathetic.

"Listen, Vince, that's very kind of you, and I do appreciate the compliment, but I don't have anywhere to keep them and-" 

"No, no Lydia I-I insist. Look, I uh, I even brought a um... Brought a vase. To keep them in." Vince said, holding up the clear vase made of thin glass which held the variety of colorful flowers. 

Despite him being so incessant about her taking the gift he presented, the flowers were simply distasteful to Lydia's more gothic values. 

Her guilt, however, overpowered her longing to stay as far away from the multicolored burdens as possible.

She reached out with both hands and took the vase, her fingers twitching as if she were subconsciously trying to escape the obligation to accept the gift. Before she could change her mind and reject them, however, the vase was gently - yet firmly - pushed into her hands, forcing her to take hold in order to avoid dropping and inevitably shattering the gift (which wouldn't, truthfully, have been all that heartbreaking for her). 

"Ah, thank you, Vince, that's... Very thoughtful." She said, extending her false gratitude in the form of a very forced smile. He didn't seem to notice, however - or didn't care - and took her hand in his, making her fumble the vase before she got a steady hold of it with one hand. Without permission, he brought the back of her hand up to his dry lips and planted a kiss on it, which lasted much too long for her comfort. 

Hastily, she tugged her hand away when she felt it had gone on long enough, and had to refrain from making a disgusted face before she cleared her throat obnoxiously. 

"I'd better go, Vince. You should too - you shouldn't stay here in the girl's section of the hallway for too long, or suspicions might rise." Lydia claimed, though she knew all too well that no authority really cared about the sex of those who came and went through these halls, let alone bothered to check.

"Y-yes, of course. That might ruin my, um, ruin my reputation. I uh, c-can't have that." Vince said, a shaky grin crossing his face. Lydia almost giggled at the sight - not at his attempt at joking, but rather at his face when he said it. He looked so nervous that it wasn't too farfetched to say that he was about to literally crack under pressure.

"Goodnight, Vince." Lydia said, and allowed him to struggle out a goodbye in return before she shut the door and nearly screamed out of frustration. 

Betelgeuse - the fly - perched on one of the vibrant flower petals and crossed two pairs of legs, wings twitching crossly.

"No. Don't even ask it. Don't even think about it." Lydia spoke to him bitterly, setting the vase down on her desk carelessly. "We are most certainly **not** involved, and never will be. His little crush will fade soon, I'm sure of it." 

Betelgeuse flew back to his place on her bed, suddenly back to his normal appearance in the blink of an eye. He looked her up and down as if he didn't believe her, and huffed with exasperation.

"Please. He seems to _reeeeeeeeeally_ like you, Lyds." The ghoul grunted, filing his nails without really paying attention to Lydia. "I mean, come on. That guy?"

"What is wrong with you? You shouldn't care one way or another. Even if we _were_ an object, it's none of your concern." Lydia argued, though it was no use; He still paid her no mind. 

Then, she hatched an idea, and allowed her palm to cover her mouth with surprise. 

"That is... Unless the token ghost with the most is feeling a little bit..." Lydia spoke quietly and slowly, edging him on with every word to catch his attention before inching forward towards the bed. 

_"...Jealous?"_


	5. Being Repossessed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date finally arrives when Lydia has to go to her former house to meet with the Maitlands, but they aren't as oblivious as she'd have hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way less time than I'd expected it to, just because I kind of rushed it and also started it before the last chapter was even completely finished lmao  
I'm trying to get to the main plot soon, so it won't be too long before it (hopefully) gets more exciting and the smut aspect of the story gets involved. For now though, sorry to disappoint, but it's gonna stay clean whoop

"_If men only felt about death as they do about sleep, all terrors would cease._"  
-_**Richard Matheson**_

* * *

Barbara stared after her goddaughter in pure horror. When Lydia entered the house, immediately she sensed a strong presence on her that meant she hadn't been alone just hours previously - at the very least. 

Barbara didn't mind Lydia having other friends, and obviously she'd have been around other students in college, but this was so much different. This was cold and dark and evil. 

And Barbara knew exactly who it was; She could practically smell him on her. His lingering scent of smoke and everything that is disgusting. It was putrid. 

She looked to Adam, eyes wide with fear, and caught the look on his face as well - he'd sensed it too. There was no denying it - Lydia had either been in contact with him, or was trying to. And Barbara wasn't sure what was worse. 

None of the living residents of the house had mentioned it or even seemed to notice it, unsurprisingly. Delia was obsessed with herself as always, and Charles was busying himself with paperwork. Neither of them bothered to even take a second look at her when she arrived - only mumbled their greetings. Delia merely told her to hurry up and straighten out Adam and Barbara. 

The Maitlands noticed, however. To say they were furious was an understatement at it's finest. 

When Lydia walked into the attic and almost ran into the couple, they had managed to ignore it, brushing it off as just a coincidence or their imaginations. They were able to carry a conversation for a while, Barbara noting each and every uncomfortable movement or habit she visualized while they were talking, specifically when the couple asked questions - _specific_ questions - about the disreputable ghoul she'd certainly talked to, if not - god forbid - summoned.

She was confused when their faces slowly contorted into scornful, irate, and even despondent versions of their previously kind and warm expressions. Seeing them looking extremely angry with her, truthfully, scared her out of her wits; They were almost never choleric with her, so it was both odd and unsettling to see them look so aggrieved. Barbara took pleasure in seeing her squirm under their heavy stares. 

Adam was the one to break the silence, stepping forward and gripping her shoulder tightly. 

"Lydia," he spoke calmly, though beads of sweat rolled down the side of his face, giving away his relaxed demeanor. "Have you been seeing..." 

He strained for a moment, struggling to think of a nickname that wouldn't accidentally summon him or alert him to their conversation. 

Lydia stepped back, verbally waiving the accusation, though it was clear that she was lying. Despite her skills when it came to this task, it was more difficult when the accusor already knew the truth. It was even worse when said accusor were your godparents. 

"No! You know I wouldn't, I promised!" Lydia shouted, growing more defensive as their glares rested on her equally. "Not after what he did to us - to _you!_

Barbara sighed, all signs of hostility suddenly vanishing, and grabbed her upper arms with both hands, squeezing them gently. 

"Lydia. We know." Barbara said in a monotone voice, though it was heavy with disappointment.

A flash of terror sparked in Lydia's eyes as she, once again, tried to think of some kind of protest or denial. But it was to no avail, and Barbara looked steadily at her. Looked steadily _into_ her. It was as if she were reading Lydia's mind. 

Then, all at once, Lydia broke down and began to sob, leaning forward until her forehead pressed against Barbara's chest. Cries racked through her and made her shoulders shake, and all aggression in the Maitlands was now replaced with sympathy.

The couple said nothing, only stroked her back and hugged her tightly between them, allowing her to cry. 

They may not have agreed with or liked what she'd done; But they understood.

* * *

"Beej, I told you already, I need to go. They'll get suspicious if I don't." Lydia said as she buttoned up her jacket, hurrying around her dorm in a rush to get ready and prepared for meeting up with Delia and the Maitlands.

"Aww, c'mon Lyds!" Betelgeuse cried, levitating behind her as she looked around hurriedly for anything she'd need to bring. "Can't ya just blow 'em off? Just this once?" 

Lydia rolled her eyes, smiling a bit at his childish behavior.

"You'll be fine, Beej. At most, it'll just take a day. And it isn't very likely I'll be staying the night there, so you shouldn't worry about that." Lydia explained persistently, turning sharply and colliding with him, causing him to fall hard onto the carpeted floor.

He rubbed his head as if the fall had injured his head - despite landing flat on his rear - and looked up at her with a pained expression.

"I won't make it that long!" He objected, desperate to convince her to either stay or bring him along. "Please! Just lemme tag along, I won't do nuthin'!" He promised, clasping his hands together and getting on his knees in front of her.

Lydia sighed, walking away from the groveling ghost and headed for the door after grabbing her bag. 

"Help yourself to anything you want, as long as it goes unnoticed by everyone else." Lydia told him firmly, pointing a finger at him as if she could tell what he was planning. "And stay in the dorm. I don't want to risk anyone seeing you." 

"You're seriously gonna make me sit around and do _nothing?_" Betelgeuse hissed, glaring at her sorrowfully. He looked a mess, and still hadn't lifted himself off her floor.

"No. You can watch the tv, listen to music, eat some pests you might find here and there..." She corrected him, listing off each activity by counting on her fingers. "You can play games, sleep, and... And quit looking at me like that!" 

Betelgeuse was sitting on the ground cross-legged, staring up at her through narrow eyes that gave away how hurt he was - or rather, how hurt he wanted her to think he was. 

When she shouted at him, though, the look disappeared and was replaced with sheer frustration.

"Oh, come on! Just let me come, please? Pretty please?" Betelgeuse continued to beg, crawling closer to her. "You won't even know I'm there! Well... _you_ will, but what matters is that _they_ won't!" He tried reasoning with her, but her mind was made up. It was too risky to allow him to come, and too risky to abandon the plans altogether. 

"Beej, I'll be back before you know it. Okay?" Lydia said, her tone softening as she tilted his chin up with her hand, making him look up at her. "Don't answer the door for anyone. I'll even bring you back some of those crickets you love so very much?" She offered, attempting to bring a reward into play if he cooperated.

God, it was like training a puppy.

Betelgeuse, still resentful, crossed his arms and began to hover above the ground again, his legs still neatly crossed over one another.

"Salt and vinegar?" He asked tentatively, raising a brow as if he were suspicious of her overture.

"Salt and vinegar." She agreed with a nod, tapping him on the underside of his chin before she retracted her arm and reached for the doorknob. "I'll be back later tonight, okay? Just..." She sighed, looking away and biting the corner of her lower lip. "Be careful. Please, stay out of trouble." She willed him, looking back up at the floating ghost before she walked out the door, waved a timid goodbye, and shut it behind her.

Locking him inside. 

As the tiniest sliver of his visibility was blocked behind the door as it was closed, she inhaled deeply before she locked it, wondering if this was truly a good idea.

_No,_ she thought, answering her own question immediately. _but when have I ever had a good idea?_

Before she knew it, she'd gone down to the parking lot a few floors down from where her dorm was located. Fumbling with her keys, she managed to pull them out of her breast pocket and unlock her car doors. 

Climbing into the driver's seat, she turned on the car and for the rest of the ride, her mind remained on auto pilot as she overthought all of the worst-case scenarios that could possibly happen while she was gone. 

When she arrived around an hour and a half later, she just sat in the driveway for another few minutes, hesitant to go inside. She hadn't seen her family for the better of two years, and wasn't sure how they would act around her.

She could predict how Delia would react to her coming back; She could practically hear the squawking of her stepmom as she paced around, criticizing everything Lydia said and did and judging her for her choice in college. 

Charles likely wouldn't do much other than say hello - he didn't value her presence, nor anyone else's, all too much. Though she was his daughter, he had come to the conclusion that she'd abandoned that title when she left them for college. Now she was nothing more than another visitor in their home. 

The Maitlands would likely be happy to see her after so long. After all, who wouldn't be relieved with the company of any relatively sane person after putting up with someone like Delia? 

After reconsidering her course of action for a moment, she finally unbuckled her seatbelt, grabbed her necessities and headed inside. 

Taking the rickety wooden steps two at a time to reach the door, she swallowed hard before extending a closed fist and knocking three times on the wooden door. A hollow thump echoed from inside, and she waited for someone to answer her. 

Finally, after an annoyingly long wait, Delia answered the door in a full, lime-green facemask, a towel twisted around her short scarlet-colored hair. She was dressed in a paler green robe, which was looking rather ratty at first glance. 

At the sight, Lydia jumped with surprise, the image startling her. She'd been expecting something a bit less... Green. Tentatively, she smiled at the woman in front of her, which was not returned.

"Lydia," Delia began without so much as a 'hello', or a 'how are you, Lydia?', "The Maitlands are up in the attic. Try not to move anything, we're redecorating." She finished, before swinging the door inward and gesturing for Lydia to come inside.

"Gee, you're very welcome, Delia, it's so _nice_ to see you too." Lydia muttered under her breath. Delia didn't seem to notice - or didn't care - and headed straight back for the master bedroom, where she and Charles slept.

Lydia looked around for her father when the thought crossed her mind, and spotted him in the kitchen, a steaming cup of coffee clutched in one chubby fist.

"Hi, dad!" Lydia called out politely, and saw him look up from whatever he was focused on to wave at her, returning the nice smile that Delia hadn't provided.

"Hello, sweetheart. It's good to see you again, it's been quite some time now." He said, nodding at his own statement before returning to work.

As expected, he didn't pay her much attention, and she walked away the moment he turned back to his work. 

Spotting the staircase that led to her former room as well as the attic, Lydia was excited to see the Maitlands, the one factor that convinced her to come in the first place - considering Delia gave her no context as to why she needed help. 

She grabbed onto the railing, fingertips trailing lightly over the sleek surface as she headed up toward the attic door, which was partially open. She pushed it the rest of the way in, looking around the dusty room for a particular couple that only she was able to see without some complicated ritual.

She spotted Adam almost immediately, sitting in the loveseat that still had yet to be shed of the thin white sheet that was spread overtop of it. He was in the middle of a thick novel, his eyes dancing across the paper before being cast upward to peep at Lydia from behind the tiny spectacles. His loose black and white flannel was covered in small brown stains that Lydia assumed was the grime or dirt that was plentiful in the dim attic. 

His mouth opened and closed, as if he were about to say something, but Barbara appeared in the doorway, her head poking around the corner to get a glimpse at what had distracted her husband.

When she saw who it was, recognizing it to be her goddaughter, she ran over excitedly and enveloped the thin-framed girl in her arms, laughing cheerfully as she picked Lydia up and spun her around a few times in the tight hug. 

"Lydia!" Barbara cheered joyously, before setting her gently back down on the ground on her own two feet. Lydia, beaming, allowed her to gently stroke a fibril of hair away from her face before taking both of her cheeks in her hands and admiring how she'd matured. "My my, you've grown..."

Lydia giggled softly as she said it, placing her hands overtop of Barbara's where they rested on the sides of her face. She recalled how Beetlejuice had said the same thing to her not long after being called back, but in a much less wholesome manner. She shoved aside the thought as Barbara leaned forward and kissed her forehead before stepping back to join Adam a few feet away. 

"Yeah, I sure would hope so..." Lydia chuckled softly, crossing her arms behind her back as she rocked on the balls of her feet. She looked around the dingy old attic and cringed, seeing that Delia had rearranged almost all of the furniture and had started to paint the walls a pukey yellow color. "I, uh... See she's redecorated... Again." Lydia said, starting to understand why the Maitlands would be bothering her over this.

"Oh, yes. It's absolutely horrid, isn't it?" Barbara said plaintively, shaking her head with a long, heavy sigh. "We've been trying to talk her out of it, but you know we can't really talk to either her not Charles." She said, looking at Adam with a small frown.

"So we've been trying to reach them through notes and signals, you know, to communicate," Adam continued for her, adjusting his glasses. "But they just keep ignoring all of our letters and signs we leave for them." He sighed, glancing back at Barbara.

As they spoke, Lydia noted that they seemed to be conversing with each other silently, as if they had planned out something that they wouldn't verbally express. There was a flicker of disquiet in the air around them, and Lydia began to get worried, shifting uncomfortably.

"Well, that's just it. Delia called me and told me to talk to you guys because you were causing trouble, and I think that might be what she means." Lydia said, connecting the dots as she spoke. "She doesn't really understand this whole thing, and I guess she still considers you guys a couple of grievances. Even though _she_ invaded _your_ house and decided to completely ruin it." Lydia finished with a forced chuckle.

That earned a laugh from both Adam and Barbara. Relieved that it was likely her overactive imagination making her so concerned, she was able to give a genuine smile as well.

"Yes, that's fair enough I suppose." Adam chuckled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "But otherwise, I see how your... Err... Delia could see it that way." 

"Would you be so kind as to let her know our true intentions, dear?" Barbara said, looking over at Lydia apologetically. "I apologize for the inconvenience, we're just... Well, we're dead." She said, and Adam visibly shuddered.

"I'm still not used to hearing that." He mused nervously, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

"So, Lydia, sit down. We've a lot to catch up with. How's college going for you? Is it tough?" Barbara began to ask, leading her over to the couch, which was below a string of dimly lit fairy lights hung from the rafters.

"College is going fine," Lydia started, sitting down after she dusted off the couch with her palm. "The work gets kinda tedious sometimes, and some of my professors are _suuuuuper_ boring, but otherwise I really enjoy my time there." 

"Have you... Made any friends?" Adam asked, leaning forward and glancing at his wife with an expression Lydia couldn't quite name.

Lydia swallowed hard, shifting a bit in her seat, and decided against telling them about Vince, seeing as he wasn't really a friend of hers.

"Ah, no, not really." Lydia said, shrugging and giving a contrite smile. "I mean, I have people I talk to every now and again, but nothing anyone is really commited to." She explained further.

"I see. That's a shame, so many people would be very lucky to have a friend like you, Lydia." Barbara sighed sympathetically, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving a compassionate squeeze.

Lydia smiled politely in return, her whirling thoughts contradicting her outward expressions. She was getting anxious now, but she was determined to keep Betelgeuse a secret. _her_ secret.

"So," Barbara began, leaning back in her seat until her shoulder rested gingerly against Adam's chest. "Are there any other ghosts there? That would be exciting." She continued with a grin, though her eyes held something much deeper than genuine curiosity.

"Oh yeah, it's such a big school, I'd be surprised if there _wasn't_ anything of interest there." Adam said, sustaining the conversation that Lydia clearly wanted no part of.

"Oh, uh..." Lydia began, her gaze downcast to her lap as she fiddled with her sleeves relentlessly, getting more nervous by the second. "No. Not that I've, um... Seen." She finished, cursing her sudden inability to fib without making it obvious. 

"I see." Barbara said, and Lydia was painfully aware of her expression shifting as she looked to Adam to silently inquire if they were on the same page.

"Lydia," Adam began after a few moments, taking Barbara's hand in his own and squeezing it for comfort - though Lydia wasn't sure if his intention was to reasaure himself or his wife. "Have you been seeing..."

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. While his own face held a mixture of fear and concern, Barbara looked more disappointed than worried for her.

Lydia snapped back to attention, alarmed, and her jaw dropped for a brief moment before clamping shut as she stared at them, bewildered.

They'd found out after all. She was completely unaware of the weak denials that continuously slipped past her parted lips as she was resorted to a blabbering mess of herself. 

But when Barbara touched her, gently as it was, she was gone.

She let out a tiny, breathless gasp, going dead silent for a moment, and began to cry.

And, to her surprise, she was pulled forward towards her and wrapped into a fierce hug between Barbara and Adam, unable to do anything but shiver and cry.

They'd found out after all. So what were they going to do to him? Or, even worse... What would they make _her_ do to him?


	6. Pretend this is a ghost pun I'm out of ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia arrives home from her old house and refuses to talk about what happened, which Betelgeuse accepts begrudgingly. They eat, and more questions are brought up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh I can't think of anything clever to say about this chapter other than - spoiler alert - this isn't where they get together. It's probably gonna be a while before they actually get involved so, fair warning. Still will have some more explicit material in upcoming chapters, so don't worry about that.

"_Evil is always possible. And goodness is eternally difficult._"  
-_**Anne Rice**_

* * *

When she came home, her key jamming into the lock on her door, she stumbled inside and practically fell into Betelgeuse's awaiting arms.

Startled, he almost dropped her. He'd been hoping to greet her at the door, but instead had been made to catch her as she fell instead.

"Err... Welcome home, babes." He said, awaiting an explanation. 

She merely smiled, eyes closed, and pulled herself to her feet with a sigh.

"I brought Chinese food." She said, holding up a plastic bag full of takeout boxes that Betelgeuse hadn't noticed before. "I know I promised you crickets, but-"

"That's great - from the place down the road, right?" The ghoul cut her off with the question, grinning excitedly and bouncing on his toes. 

Lydia nodded and he squealed happily. 

"Great! That place always has tons of roaches in their food; The good juicy kind, the little fat ones, it's like fine dining for cheap!" He explained, overjoyed, and snatched the bag from her outstretched hands. 

"Well, that isn't exactly why I went there, but sure." Lydia said, giggling softly as she made her way over.

Betelgeuse was already tearing apart the bag to get to the boxes hidden away inside, eyes wide with hunger and anticipation. The tip of his striped tongue poked out between his teeth as he smiled, gaze darting from left to right in search of anything he deemed edible.

"Are you gonna invite me over?" Lydia hiccupped, eyes halfway closed as her gaze landed on him expectantly. 

He looked up at her, ripping his sight from the bag to briefly search her face for any emotion; or lack thereof. He patted the bed beside him, wordlessly asking her to join him.

She smiled, content, and skipped over next to him. When she sat down, Betelgeuse noticed the faint red trickle of blood that had congealed on and just below her ear. He blinked at it a few times, baffled, and tilted his head before sweeping her hair over to reveal the wound better.

There was a large scratch, inflamed and still bleeding at the corners, that went from just above her ear all the way down to her cheekbone. 

"Lyds! You're bleeding!" He shouted, making her jump. She stared at him, shocked, before realizing what he meant and clapping a hand over her ear to hide it.

"Hey, no, it's fine, don't worry about it-" 

"Lydia, what happened?" Betelgeuse said, getting up off the bed with a concerned frown creasing his face.

"Beej, really. A little blood loss never hurt anyone." Lydia insisted, shrugging and removing her hand from her face with a visible wince.

"Yes, it did, Lydia." Betelguese groaned from beside her, shaking his head. "Since you got home you've been acting up. Somethin' happened to you, and I'm gonna figure out what if my name ain't Richard." He started, crossing his arms stubbornly. "And it's not." 

"Seriously, Beej, I'm fine. Just come sit back down, don't worry about it." Lydia reinstated, rolling her eyes and brushing her hair back over her ear to conceal the cause of concern. 

"At least let me getcha a-" 

"Beetlejuice! I'm fine!" She snapped suddenly, eyes brimming with tears. He blinked, surprised at the sudden reaction but not exactly intimidated.

She gasped softly, covering her mouth with her sleeve and frowning a little, realizing she'd accidentally said his name.

"...Sorry." She muttered quietly, eyes cast downward at her food. She picked at it with her chopsticks, not meeting his gaze.

They listened to the television in silence for a while, Betelgeuse plucking up small flies that landed on his uneaten food and choosing them over the romaine. 

Lydia picked at her own food, nudging it with the chopsticks she was provided and not bothering to change the channel when an infomercial was cast. 

Betelgeuse, not really paying attention to the television either, looked at his own scraps of food when the air became suddenly lacking of any flies or insects of any kind.

He looked at the sweet and sour chicken, deciding it looked the most normal to him, and tried mimicking Lydia when he picked up his chopsticks. However, he couldn't find how to position it just right between his fingers, let alone pick up the actual food, and got frustrated.

"Fuck it." He muttered, stabbing the end of the chopstick into a piece of chicken, adjusted it until he was sure he could now pick it up, and lifted it into the air on the edge of the chopstick.

"Brilliant." Lydia said, smiling a bit as if she couldn't help it. The mood lightened a little. 

"Indeed. Who needs all this fancy crap when you could just take the easy way out?" Betelgeuse purred slyly, popping the chicken into his mouth and chewing it slowly - testing the flavor, the texture, the... Edibility.

"More like the lazy way out," Lydia corrected with a coy grin, jabbing him in the arm as she elbowed him. 

"Lazy, easy, what's the difference?" Betelgeuse scoffed with disbelief, deciding the chicken wasn't the best meal ever, but was edible at the very least. He popped another nugget into his mouth with the same strategy he'd used with the prior one, humming quietly.

"Is that good?" Lydia inquired, leaning over to get a better look at his food. "I just ordered the thing that looked the most... Well, simple." 

"Why? 'Cause I'm simple?" Betelgeuse shot back, looking aghast and putting on a comical expression of sheer offense.

"Not even close." Lydia laughed, crossing her arms. "You are the _furthest_ thing from simple to ever grace the Earth." She finished, cocking a brow smugly.

"Gee, Lyds, that's real nice. Real pleasant of ya." Betelgeuse snorted sarcastically, pushing what remained of his chicken toward her. "Want some? It's... Eh, different." He coughed awkwardly.

Lydia eyed the food warily before she shrugged and picked one up delicately between her fingers, taking a good half of it as she bit into the soggy meat.

Immediately, she wrinkled her nose with disgust and forced herself to swallow, tossing the rest into the trash bin on the other side of the room. It bounced off the wall before falling into the bin with a disgusting, wet sound. Lydia noticed it'd left a faded orange stain on the wall.

"That's so gross!" She said, gagging, and got up off the bed to wash out her mouth. 

Betelgeuse cackled uncontrollably, finding her disgust absolutely hilarious. He clutched his belly in his hand and tried to stop himself in order to get a proper sentence out.

"Are you okay in there, Babes?" He called out to her, hearing the faint sound of rushing water that signalled the faucet running.

"Ugh... I feel like I'm gonna puke." She moaned from the bathroom, groping for the sink.

"Need someone to hold your hair back?" The ghoul joked from the bedroom, unable to help but think she was being a bit dramatic. But who was he to determine that? He was dead, after all.

"You're insufferable," Lydia sighed in return, letting out another pained whimper. "But no. I'm fine. It's just... I wasn't expecting it to be so..." 

"Gross? Disgusting? Soggy? Moldy?" Betelgeuse suggested, perking up as she exited the bathroom, holding a small tissue to her mouth to wipe away the excess saliva around her lips, which were swollen from all the scrubbing. 

"Moldy?!" She yelped, gagging again. "There was _mold_ on that?" 

He shrugged and looked down at the chicken again, picking up a piece to examine it closer in the poor lighting.

"Well, no, not exactly." He answered, setting it back down on the flimsy paper plate. "But it's definitely not fresh, that's for sure." 

"Ugh. And you let me put that in my mouth?!" She accused, narrowing her eyes at him. 

"Hey, it ain't that bad for me. I've certainly had worse." Betelgeuse said, and walked across the room to throw away the remains of the expired food as well as the oily plates and boxes it came in. 

Lydia smacked her forehead in aggravation and sat down on the bed, legs hanging over the side. She brushed her hair to the side, out of her face, and laid down on top of the comforter, tucking her knees in close to her chest.

Betelgeuse looked at her, admiring her figure for a moment before he laid in front of her on his side, arm bent so his hand could prop up his head, His other arm hung over his side in a draw-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls-Jack pose. 

He wiggled his eyebrows flirtatiously and gave a half-assed grin, causing Lydia to break into a fit of laughter. 

"You look ridiculous," she murmured quietly, a few stifled giggles still escaping past her lips.

"Ridiculous, maybe. But am I an idiot? ...Also yes." He joked, looking over at the television, which was humming with life as it played another infomercial.

They laid in silence for a while, watching the old white lady drone on about some antique-looking porcelain figures. He wasn't entirely sure what their purpose was, since she hadn't made that clear, but was amused at the way she tried to convince potential buyers nonetheless.

Lydia looked over at him, eyeing him carefully. Her lips pursed as he caught her stare and returned it questioningly, head cocked.

"What is it, Lyds?" He asked, the silence broken with the question.

She bit the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, as if debating if the question was worth asking. It took about two minutes for her to finally get it out.

"Do you ever... Miss being alive?" 

The question startled him. He looked over at her, eyebrows cocked with curiosity as he cracked a tiny grin.

"No, not really," he began, unsure of how exactly to go about answering the question. "But sometimes I do miss... Certain aspects of it, yanno what I'm sayin'?" He said, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

She did not know what he was saying.

He caught the confused flash in her eyes and she sat up, her red spiderweb poncho draped over the edge of the bed when she reached out to hold onto something, groping for the blanket.

"No. What do you mean?" She insisted, pressing the question. It was rather blunt, and Betelgeuse didn't typically enjoy nor advance conversation about his time alive. But there was something about her that just broke through his defenses and squashed any remaining unease he had about the topic.

It was then that he noticed how strikingly beautiful she was.

He'd noticed, of course, when she first summoned him back. But then, it had only been a few quick glimpses, and she wasn't entirely comfortable with him yet. It took time for them to be able to just sit together in front of the television without any suspicion of ill intent.

But now, since that bridge hadn't just been crossed but had been utterly _destroyed,_ he saw her in a completely new light - literally.

The soft glow of the tv screen bathed her in a blueish light that washed over her pale features and drew attention to the smaller details about her; The tiny dimples on either cheek that were prominent each time she smiled, her naturally long eyelashes, her hair, which was currently down and cascading over her shoulders, that had stayed a natural jet black over the years...

"Well, I mean, sometimes I miss going out for walks..." 

She twirled her hair around her finger, a habit that he'd always found rather enticing about her. Her poncho was spread over her lap in a fashion that made her legs, which were folded to her side one on top of the other, stand out against the deep red of the fabric. He was overcome with the sudden desire to touch the skin that she revealed to him.

_oh, **Jesus.**_

"I miss pettin' dogs without 'em being scared of my, uh, appearance." He continued, hoping she hadn't caught him staring, and lightened the mood by stroking his face and grinning sarcastically. "Which, I for one, think is total bullshit because c'mon, who wouldn't love a face like this? I think they're just intimidated." 

She laughed, her teeth perfectly white. Her canines were sharper than the average person's, and he'd always loved _that_ about her too. It was mysterious and yet it fascinated him oh so very much.

He wished he could feel her drag those teeth down his neck; Not biting him, but still making his hair prickle with the thought that she had every opportunity to. 

_Oh, **fuck.**_

"I miss... My heart." He found himself murmuring aloud, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. He chuckled awkwardly, looking away and hoping she wouldn't press the question.

"Your... Heart?" 

Fuck.

He turned back to her only to see her looking more interested than before, leaning forward with her hands pressed flat into the mattress in front of her knees. 

He blinked, examining her posture and the look in her eye that silently willed him to give a further explanation.

"Beej?" She asked again, and leaned ever closer, eyes half lidded with what he hoped was the same affection he longed to give her. 

"Why don't you uh... Show me? What you mean?" She continued, tentatively lifting her hand to place it on his shoulder, her fingers wrapping around it. He noted that she was shaking, and clearly as - if not more - nervous as he was. 

He felt her grip his shoulder tighter as she leaned closer to him, eyeing him carefully for a reaction; An objection, an encouragement, anything. She was answered with him slowly responding to her touch, leaning in as well. 

He felt her breath on his cheek, looking up at her face. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were puckered ever so slightly, inviting him closer for a taste.

He swallowed hard, wishing he wasn't so stubborn when it came to bathing and brushing his teeth.

_Ah, fucking hell... Screw it._

With that final thought, he closed his own eyes in turn and leaned forward into her...


	7. Love at First Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some development between Betelgeuse's and Lydia's relationship, a sorrowful rejection, and a look into what the Maitlands have been planning since the unfortunate news they'd recieved from Lydia's visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may seem rushed, and that's because it is. So I'm sorry in advance for a) the short chapter, and b) the shitty chapter lmao.

"_Am I walking toward something I should be running away from?_"

-_**Shirley Jackson**_

* * *

__

Their lips brushed against each other, their eyes closed as she leaned in for more. 

Then, at the last second, Betelgeuse pulled away and grabbed her shoulders tightly, opening his eyes sorrowfully.

Her brow furrowed and she opened her eyes, opening her mouth as if to ask why he'd stopped. He hushed her when he answered the unspoken question.

"Lydia... I can't. This is... So wrong, Lyds. I mean..." He gestured to himself, giving her an exasperated look. "Look at the obvious, Lydia, I'm dead!" 

Lydia, nearly crying, scooted backwards as she balled up her fists in her lap, wrinkling her poncho.

"I don't care!" She half-whispered, looking down at the mattress. "You're all I want, Beej. All I've ever wanted..." She sniffled, finally lifting her gaze upward toward him. "You're all I... All I have."

"That's not true, and you know it, Lyds." Betelgeuse scolded lightly, placing his hand on top of hers in a comforting manner.

"It is!" She sobbed out, shivering visibly. "I love you, dammit! And I know I shouldn't, and I know it's wrong, but..." 

She paused, making him cock his head slightly. "...But?" 

"I'm... Not attractive. That's why you don't..." She trailed off, her thumb stroking her own cheek as if making sure the words she spoke were true.

Betelgeuse scoffed, taking her face in his hands and looking at her sternly. "Lyds, listen to me. I hate to break it to you, but you're the furthest thing from ugly in this stupid dimension." He spoke in a playful tone, smiling sadly. "It's disgusting, how fuckin' gorgeous you are. Makes me wanna kiss your fuckin' face all over." 

Lydia laughed through her tears, making him smile. "Such a way with words." She hiccupped sarcastically, and placed her hand over his, which was cupping her cheek. Her expression faltered, and her eyes drifted away from him again. "...So why don't you?"

"You know I can't, Lydia. I've never been fond 'a rules, but... This goes against almost everything, Lyds." He muttered hoarsely. 

"Then... Let me die." She whispered, making him jump and recoil his hand in shock.

"_What?!_"

"Let me die, Beej. If I join you on the other side, then I can... We can..." She didn't finish. She didn't need to. Betelgeuse knew exactly what she was trying to say.

"No, Lydia! It's not that simple-"

"Oh, isn't it?" She said, almost accusatory in her tone. "If I'm dead, we can meet somewhere in the Neitherworld! Beej, if you really meant what you said, then..." 

His eyes widened at the proposition and he leaned back, jaw dropping with the sheer unexpectedness of the offer.

"...We could be... Together." She said in almost a whisper, taking his hand in her own and lacing their fingers together.

He yanked his hand away, his face still conveying his shock. He shook his head wildly, clenching his fists.

"No, Lydia. I refuse to let you die because you have some kinda stockholm syndrome." He said with finality, eyes holding an unmatched guilt. "Dontcha realize you're the _last_ fuckin' person in the overworld I actually give two shits about? I can't risk losing that, Lyds." 

A pause.

"...I can't. You know what happens to-"

"To people who commit suicide?" She interrupted, pinning him under her fiery gaze. "I know. Civil servants, or whatever. But I can get around that!" She insisted, crossing her arms. "Don't you want to be with me?" 

"More than anything, Lydia, but how do you plan to go about that?" He objected, raising a brow skeptically.

"You managed to avoid getting exorcised for years, Beej," she pointed out, eyeing him. "If you can do it, so can I. Are you doubting me?" 

"Yes, I am!" He shouted, throwing his hands up into the air. "I don't want to risk losing you! You're the only person I bother gettin' up in the morning for! Otherwise I'd just lay around eatin' bugs that crawl too close! Do you think I want to lose that?"

She was silent a long while, considering the question. Her lips pursed and she sighed, shaking her head.

"So what if I married you? You said that would free you for good. Get you out of the Neitherworld," she said adamantly, refusing to give up so easily. "So why can't we try again? Where we won't be... Interrupted."

"Lyds, even if I _do_ get freed permanently, that doesn't make me any less dead." He said, shivering a bit. This entire topic was making him uncomfortable, and he was desperate to change it, but Lydia wasn't going down easy.

"Well, you didn't see a problem with it the _first_ time." Lydia snorted, wrinkling her nose as if to keep back her oncoming tears.

"Because I didn't _know_ you the first time! I didn't _**love**_ you yet!" He said, raising his voice now. "My mind was only on gettin' free, Lydia! But now that you've made me..." He sighed, rubbing his temples.

She looked him over expectantly, patiently awaiting the finish to his sentence.

"You made me fuckin' _care_ about ya, Lydia. And care about what happens to you." He murmured.

She took his hand away from his face, tracing his palm with her nails.

"Then let me do this, Beej. It'd make me happy. If you really care so much, then let me be happy. With _you._"

"You're too good for me."

"What?"

"I said," he started, beginning to stand, "you're too fuckin' good for me. I don't deserve a peach like you." 

"Beetlejuice, what are you trying to say?" Lydia stammered, unable to process his words.

"I'm tryin' to say that you're fucking perfect, and I'm a selfish wreck!" He almost yelled, clamping his hands against the sides of his face. "You're good, and kind, and gorgeous. Hell, despite your little crush on me, I daresay you're even fuckin' innocent!" 

"Beetlejuice, I'm not-"

"Stop it! I don't need you to deny it right now, alright? That makes it even worse, 'cause now you're humble too!" He ranted, not meeting her gaze as she began to blush. "More than anything I want to be yours. But there's the problem, Lyds; _I don't deserve to have you._" 

He finished his argument and approached her, clamping his hands down on her shoulders. Bewildered, she sat there with her mouth open, careful to note each movement.

"Is that simple enough for ya?" He almost whispered, fat beads of sweat trickling down the side of his face.

She stared blankly at him, lip quivering, and sniffled a bit before suddenly reaching forward with both hands, grabbing the sides of his face and placing her thumbs on his lips. Then, she pulled him closer and kissed the backs of her thumbs on the knuckles, which were white from how hard she'd been clutching her poncho.

It wasn't a real kiss; But hell if it didn't give the same effect. Rather than pulling away like he'd done before, Betelgeuse simply stood there and allowed it, still shaken from the argument.

When she pulled away, her eyes remained closed for a moment as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"If nothing else, Beej," she said in a hushed tone so only he could hear. "Let me have this. Let me have _you._"

"I'm not going anywhere, Joystick." He promised in return, smiling a bit when she visibly cringed at the nickname.

* * *

There was tension in the air between them ever since the fight.

Sure, it had been resolved, but that didn't get rid of the elephant in the room. Her true feelings had been revealed, and there was no denying it anymore. To get around that and live together as a couple was proving entirely too difficult for both of them.

They had disagreed shortly after the fight, about whether or not Lydia was grown-up enough to make her own decisions and learn that she was making a mistake by herself.

Barbara, being the protective godmother, wanted desperately to help her through what was obviously a crisis in the young girl's life. 

Adam, however, was willing to let her discover this on her own, because "that's how he learned, and he turned out fine." 

They both agreed, however, that in order to resolve this once and for all, they needed Juno's help. They could only hope they had enough information to give her; Lydia had run out of the house shortly after getting caught in her lie, so Adam and Barbara didn't have a lot of time to discover more about the situation.

"Are you sure about this...? I mean, what if Juno blames _us?_" Adam began to fret, having second thoughts about their appointment with the strict caseworker.

"Adam. It's not for us; It's for her." Barbara answered, drawing on the wall with the white chalk they kept around in case of a time like this. "Besides, what would she do to us?"

"Well, she might exorcise us, right?" He added, tapping his cheek nervously.

"For something like this? I doubt it. It's not the first time he's been summoned, obviously, and it certainly won't be the last." Barbara argued, and Adam visibly began to relax.

She finished the door, adding the final detail - that being the doorknob itself - and took a step back, admiring her work.

"Alright, then. Go ahead." Adam said, gesturing to the door. Barbara merely gave him The Look (™) and rolled her eyes before stepping up to knock on the wall three times between where the lines of the door were drawn. 

Immediately, a fluorescent green light emitted from the cracks in the wall, which was now beginning to quiver violently until it rose to a fierce tremble. After exactly 3 minutes - which seemed like a terribly long wait for Adam, who was still nervous about seeing Juno (who terrified him) - the wall cracked open, swinging inward toward them.

The door revealed a set of rickety wooden steps that led into a small waiting room that was all too familiar to the couple. The newest residents of the Neitherworld looked up toward them briefly before turning tired eyes back to whatever they were doing before they'd entered, be it reading old newspapers or warily looking around to take a guess on how the others had died.

Barbara and Adam had been lucky enough to keep their former appearances, not exactly suiting the Neitherworld. Most other deceased people looked fairly obvious in terms of how they'd died - Someone that had been stabbed, for example, may be unfortunate enough to have kept the weapon in it's respectful position or have the flesh it had wounded gorily parted and matted with dried, blackened blood. People who'd been hit by cars were flattened and had tire marks marking their body, such as the man Barbara had met during her first appointment here.

But nobody ever saw anyone that had commited suicide. And yet, everybody knew what happened to them. 

Barbara shivered at the thought and stepped up to the tiny window that seperated the secretary's office from the waiting room and tapped on the thin screen to announce her presence. Sliding the screen aside, a rather annoyed looking Miss Argentina was revealed, eyeing the couple with a brow raised.

"Let me guess. You two have gone and screwed up something again, and now you need another _abrupt_ meeting with Juno. Am I correct?"

Adam opened his mouth to respond, but Miss Argentina continued, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

"And," she interrupted rudely, wrinkling her nose. "You haven't gone through the handbook to see if there could _possibly_ be anything you could do about it. Right?" 

Adam and Barbara, defeated, simply gave each other a worried look before nodding. That earned a chuckle from a few other people in the waiting room, but when Barbara turned to glare at the culprits, they immediately played it off as a cough or looked back down at the floor.

The irritated secretary simply gave a sigh and gestured for them to have their seats as they waited for their caseworker to see to them.

"You know, you're gonna use up all of your appointments here, so you'd better have a good reason for coming." Miss Argentina scoffed curtly before slipping the screen back in place, concealing herself once more.

"Oh, we do." Adam muttered to no one in particular, his gaze wandering to the now-closing door that would lead them back home. He swallowed hard, and felt a soothing hand squeeze his arm.

"Are you ready?" Barbara whispered, offering him a smile that he didn't think he'd seen on her before.

"No," Adam answered, honestly.

Barbara only laughed, which made him relax a bit in the flimsy waiting room chair.

"Me neither."

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to contact me on instagram (@Professionalmoronn or @fuzzmint) if you're interested in a collaboration or if you have any requests! Comments are also very appreciated, and I do really enjoy hearing from all of you, so don't hesitate to talk to me! I swear I don't bite <3   
Thank you for staying with the series thus far, and I do hope you enjoy!


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